


Closer

by twistedrunes



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Bed Sex, Bedroom Sex, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Insomnia, Multiple Orgasms, Simultaneous Orgasm, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 04:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: Prompts1: “Stay here tonight.”2: “I’ll keep you warm.”3: “I can’t sleep, can I sleep here?”4: “Come cuddle.”5: “I’ll keep you warm.”





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set between the family’s release from prison and the arrival of the Mafia.

Even in the warm glow of the lantern, Michael looked pale. You un-cock your gun, slipping it into your holster. The soft click causing him to lift his head. Unwrapping himself from the neck of the bay mare he turns towards you lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the light. “Agnes?” His voice creaks like an old door, stiff with underuse.

“Yeah Mike, it’s me.” You reply softly.

He grunts indecipherably. You notice he’s swaying slightly. His eyes look sunken, cheekbones and jaw sharper than before. Older. Much older than when you last saw him five months ago. “Hm,” he hums his tone indicating surprise. At what you could only guess. He gives a little shrug as if deciding it wasn’t worth thinking about before he rests his head back on the neck of the horse.

You lift the lantern to the hook between the stalls. “She missed you.” You say holding your hand up for the mare to nuzzle. She huffs gently against your palm, obviously vexed you had no treat for her.

“I missed her,” Michael mumbles into her neck. “How’s she been?”

“Good, fine.” You reply biting your tongue to stop yourself asking him the same question in return.

“She looks good,” he says rubbing his hand out to her shoulder. “Well looked after.”

“Unlike you.” The words leave your mouth before they cross your mind.  You curse your lack of tact.

Before you can apologise Michael snaps. “Yeah well, I reckon she ate fucking better than we did.” He says bitterly, body tensing as he turns his face away from you. “Bet you Tommy fuckin’ came and visited them once or twice too.”

You shrink back slightly from his anger. His voice harder, harsher than you’d ever heard it. The air is thick with silence, despite the gentle noises of the horses, the shuffling of their hooves in the hay and the soft snuffles and snorts of their breathing.

“I came,” you begin softly, “but they sent me away.”

Michael grunts again, “Told ‘em to.” He says making no attempt to face you. You bite the inside of your lip to stop the tears, you had thought they were punishing him. Not that he didn’t want to see you. Before you can say anything he speaks again, voice softer, weary “You should never step foot in a place like that.” He says by way of explanation before falling silent again. You wait unsure of how to respond. Michael makes no attempt to interact with you further.

You’re about to leave, thinking Michael probably wanted to be alone.  **“I can’t sleep,”**  he says, his face pressed against the horse’s neck. The simple statement strained with a desperation that stopped you cold.  **“Can I sleep here?”**  It’s not a question but a plea. “Here.” He clarifies pointing to the corner of the stall.

He reminds you of a newly broken horse. One that had been broken cruelly with whips and sharp bits. Not like the horses you worked with, trained with encouragement and kindness. Like you had done for Michael’s horse. You find yourself carefully sliding into the stall, approaching him slowly as if he would startle. “You can’t sleep in here Michael it’s not safe.” You say kindly “She might stand or roll on you by mistake.” You explain brushing your hand over his shoulder soothingly.

Michael turns to your touch, collapsing against you. His trembling fingers digging into the flesh on your hips. “I’m going mad, by myself in that house.” His voice is muffled, face buried in the thick collar of your coat.

“Okay,” you say quietly resting your cheek against the top of his head. “Come upstairs.  **Stay here tonight.”**

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask handing Michael a cup of tea, leaning back against the kitchen table.

Michael leans forward, elbows, upper arms and face resting on the table top. The cup of tea held above his head, his hands gripping the cup with such force you fear it might shatter. His posture is rigid, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with his breath, biceps flexed and restrained by the confines of the sleeves of his jacket. His body is alert, poised to fight or run at any moment.

You turn so your hip is resting against the edge of the table and place your palm between his shoulders, smoothing the material of his jacket along his spine. Michael lowers the cup to the table slowly before turning his body towards you. His head doesn’t lift, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, the crown pressing above your hip. He pulls you hard against him.

“I can’t shake the fucking place.” He speaks quickly, ferociously, his words clipped short. His body shaking slightly with the added strain of restraining his already tense muscles. You rub his back soothingly, rocking in an attempt to calm him. Michael takes a deep breath. “I can’t get fucking warm.” He admits his voice so strained it sounds as if it would snap at any moment.

Loosening Michael’s grip, you duck down, resting your hands on his knees for support. “Let’s go to bed, ‘eh? It’s late.” You say looking up at him, trying to meet his eye.

Michael’s hands rest heavily on your shoulders, his thumbs resting against your neck, his head still ducked and turned, avoiding your gaze “Can’t sleep. Can’t close my eyes.”

Your hand finds his cheek turning his face towards you. Michael resists, you kiss the corner of his mouth lightly. “We don’t have to sleep, just  **come cuddle**  ‘eh?” You stand again, taking his hand in yours encouraging him out of the chair.

Michael nods and follows, you sit on the edge of the bed. Michael sits next to you. “Come on, shoes and socks off.” You instruct quietly, already removing your own. Michael does as instructed. You stand in front of him, sliding your hands from his chest over his shoulders pushing his jacket off. Your fingers find his buttons, popping the first two open. Michaels hand rises and covers yours “No, too cold.” He says, still not looking at your face.

You bend down taking his face in your hands, your thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. “ **I’ll keep you warm**.”  You assure him before pressing your lips to his again. He doesn’t reciprocate, lips not moving, eyes not meeting yours.

You nod and pull back, reaching past him to pick his jacket up off the covers. Crossing the room to hang it on the hook by the door. When you turn back, Michael is standing again. You suppress a sigh. He reaches for you, pulling you back against him again once you are within reach. His face nuzzling into your neck, breathing deeply. The feeling of his hot breath on your neck is welcome. Your eyes close as his hands start to roam. Hesitantly at first until anguished yearning takes over. He kisses your neck “I missed you.” He says following it with a longer, slower, sucking kiss, drawing the flesh into his mouth. You moan. Michael’s own guttural hum joining your own as his hands slip up under your shirt and come in contact with your skin. “Every day.”

“I missed you too.” You reply, your fingers finding his buttons again, this time unhindered.

Michael’s hand rises to your neck. The palm and fingers rougher than before causing you to shiver as he slides it up your neck before plunging into your hair. He grips the back of your head firmly as he crashes his mouth against yours. You shiver again with the passion of it. He presses harder, forcing your lips apart with his. You groan softly as his tongue plunges into your mouth. His hips grind against you as you suck his tongue deeper into your mouth. His groan flowing into your mouth. You push his shirt from his shoulders. Breaking your kiss momentarily, Michael’s hands lift yours off over your head not bothering with the buttons. He looks down admiringly at you, groaning quietly as his hands roam over you.

Unbuttoning his pants you push them and his underwear off his hips, before repeating the process on your own. You reach up behind you, deftly undoing your bra and shimmying it off before dropping it to the floor between you.

Michael groans again as your breasts squash against his chest. His cock skimming the smooth skin on the inside of your hip. His hands come to your hips as he bucks against you reflexively. You stroke his back, calming him as he remains motionless, forehead resting against your collarbone. Recovering himself he reaches behind him and yanks down the covers on your bed. Your single bed wasn’t really big enough for two, but you had made it work before. Both panting you scramble into the bed, quickly finding each other again. Lying on your sides, mouths and hands exploring, you reacquaint yourselves with the topography of each other’s bodies. You press your forehead against his, forcing him to look at you.

You smile softly, stroking his cheek before pressing your lips gently to his. Michael’s eyes flitter closed momentarily before flying open, eyes wide with fear. He pulls away from you. You stroke his cheek “Mike?”

He shakes his head as if trying to dislodge an image. “The noose.” He says voice flat “Every time I close my eyes.”

You nod in understanding, your hand on his hip pulling him back to you. You take his face in your hands kissing his forehead, cheeks, the tip of his nose, lips and along his jaw to his neck.

“Closer.” Michael murmurs, shifting his weight to one arm as he uses the other to pull you under him. He relaxes his weight against you, mouth on yours again. He slides his forearms under your back, supporting his weight while being as close to you as possible. Your legs entwine as you press yourselves against the other’s thigh.

“I’m here.” You say your hand caressing his neck. His mouth drops to your collarbone, pressing hard frantic kisses there. You rest your head against his as he lays on top of you, his kisses soften as you work your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and whisper soothing words in his ear.

Only his hips move as he grinds slowly against you. Your free hand finds his hip, your thumb rubbing it in time with his languid thrusts. You’re aching, having waited so long for him to be with you again, your sex throbbing with each movement of his hips. “I’m here.” You repeat.

“I need you closer.” He straightens his arms lifting his weight from you, eyes finding yours.

“I’m here.” You encourage, meeting his gaze and moving your legs so you are open to him.

Michael adjusts himself slightly to support his weight as he takes himself in hand. You both hiss as the head of his cock slides along you, quickly gathering wetness from you, easing its path. “Fuck.” He groans, head falling back. He jerks again as his eyes close.

“Michael look at me.” You tell him, your fingers brushing his jaw guiding it down. “Look at me.” You say your hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it. Long slow strokes until you see the fear in his eyes begin to recede. “Good.” You encourage.

Michael leans in slightly, opening you further. His sighs softly, eyes burning into yours. “Closer.” He nearly begs.

Smiling softly you guide him to your entrance. You groan in unison as Michael presses into you. His absence making everything feel new again. Reaching up, you catch his chin in your fingers, pulling his face down to yours. “Look at me.” You repeat, your fingers sliding to the back of his neck. His eyes burn into yours, you tug at his neck “Closer.” Michael rolls his hips, sliding further into you. You groan as he begins to fill you, he remains still waiting for you to adjust to his girth. Your eyes widen as he pushes still further, fully sheathed now his eyes begin to roll again, you press your nails into his neck slightly “Look at me.” You remind him.

His jaw tenses, flexing as he nods, rolling his hips again. He withdraws and pushes back into you with agonising slowness. “Fuck you feel good,” He sighs dropping down on one elbow, sliding his hand under your head his fingers tangling in your hair as the other lifts your knee up near his ribs allowing him to press further into you. “Fuck.” He groans as he reaches the apex of his thrust, watching your pupils blow. His mouth latching on to yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it between his teeth. You force your eyes to hold his as rhythm increases. He kisses along your jaw, the heat of his lips bringing your hand to his ass trying to increase his pace. He nips at your neck.

“Michael,” you moan as his pace increases and he adjusts you slightly under him so the head of his cock presses your g-spot. “Fuck.” You cry in ecstasy hands pushing against his shoulders so can you see his face. “Look at me, I’m gunna,” you can’t finish the sentence.

He meets your eye, a glimmer of a smile on the corners of his mouth “I know.” He nods, withdrawing nearly completely before slamming back into you.  

“Ugh, oh, cum with me,” you beg.

He shakes his head “I want this to last.” He strokes your cheek with his hand “cum for me, remind me how beautiful you are when you cum on my cock.” He thrusts again, rolling his hips at the top of his stroke, his pubic bone bumping against you, changing the pressure on your clit. Your nails dig into his shoulders and your legs wrap around his waist as you spasm. You moan unintelligibly as you have no choice but to relent to his wishes. You force your eyes open, holding his gaze as you cum. The intensity of him watching you as you fall apart increasing the strength of your orgasm. “Fucking gorgeous.” He moans.

You’re still quivering, as he rolls to his side, keeping himself within you as he does so. Your legs entwine. Michael holds you to him, hand gliding over your back as your aftershocks come and go, the feeling of him still hard and thick within you nearly pushing you over the edge again. You caress each other, mouths and hands roaming as you thrust against each other slowly. The position, keeping orgasm at bay allowing you to be as close as possible to each other. You murmur affirmations to each other, telling each other how good they feel, how good you feel, how much you had missed each other. 

Slowly the fire builds within you both, Michael’s hands finding your hips and pulling you against him as his thrusts increase in frequency and strength. You cum wrapped in each other, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked and breathe and cries mingling as you praise and encourage each other. You stay that way afterwards, giving each other gentle kisses, light touches caressing each other’s skin.  

You search Michael’s eyes, relieved to see some of the darkness gone, replaced with lazy haze. You shuffle yourself so his head rests on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around him. Fingers trailing lazy patterns over his skin. Lacing the fingers of your other hand with his and resting them on your abdomen. You hold him, caressing him as his breathing slows, his muscles relaxing slightly under your touch. You kiss his forehead gently and watch him sleep.


End file.
